by Seven Steps
She was in a good mood today, a blaring contrast to mine. I was tired, my head was spinning, and my heart was pounding. It was this car. This boy. This husk of my former best friend that had me tied in so many knots.
She slammed the car door, but the car remained in park.
“Is Rose coming?” Becks asked.
For reasons I couldn’t comprehend, his question made me even angrier. To be fair to him, the question was valid. My parents had informed him he’d be driving all three of us to school. Why shouldn’t he ask about the missing third passenger?
Still, a part of me wondered if he was asking out of genuine curiosity or because he wanted her to be in the car. He’d hit on her once already at the wedding, even though he didn’t really know who she was. Maybe there was something there? Some… feeling?
I pushed down the boiling rage that thought erupted within me, partially because it was ridiculous. But mostly because it hurt, because if it was true, it was just another score for the pretty twin, aka Rose.
“She’s riding with Kim this morning,” I said.
“Oh. Is that every morning?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Can we go?”
Becks paused, and for a moment I wondered if I’d been short with him. But he didn’t say anything. He simply put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb.
Great. Now I felt guilty and mad at the same time, which made me even more confused.
I growled.
I should’ve taken the bus.
“So, did you guys come up with any more ideas for the carnival?” Calla asked.
Her words shook me back to reality. “Oh. The carnival. Right. Actually, I did.”
I pulled a small, red notebook from my bookbag and opened it.
“All of that?” She gestured to the notebook, full of page after page of writing.
“Yes. All of this.”
“That’s like a gazillion things.”
“A gazillion and one.”
“What sort of stuff is in there?” Becks asked.
I nearly jumped at the sound of his voice? Why did it always surprise me when Becks said anything? I’d heard him talk a thousand times in my life. But that was the Old Becks. Not this one. This one barely spoke, except for the rare few occasions where he did, and it made me jump out of my skin.
“Well, we have to form a committee,” I said.
“Can that be just the four of us? Well, three and a half.”
“Yes. Me, you, Rose, and Becks will be the official committee members.”
“Good,” Calla said. “Then you can put a check next to that one.”
“Okay. One down. Next, we have to decide on themes. Then location. Then food…” My chest was beginning to feel tight. With every word I felt like I was drowning in this insane to-do list. “And we’ll need people to run the booths and decide on prizes. And… and… I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Calla asked.
“I mean, I don’t know. This list, it’s overwhelming. Maybe we should just tell Mr. Davies he should let Sherri do it?”
“Why would you do something like that?” Becks asked.
“Because we can’t do all of this on our own. It’s too much.”
“You’ve only mentioned four things.”
“Yeah. Four huge things.”
“So, we do them one at a time. It’s like eating an elephant. One bite at a time, right?”
Calla gagged from the back seat. “Who eats elephants?”
“It’s a fairly popular saying,” Becks retorted.
“You say that like you know anything about this,” I said to him.
“I don’t, but I’m willing to try.”
“Well, good for you.”
His eyes left the road and landed on mine. His brows were pressed, and his jaw was tight.
“What is up with you?” he asked. “What happened to the girl who walked across the top of the monkey bars on the playground and who got suspended for a week for punching Todd Gray in the nose when he made fun of me in the second grade?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I guess we’ve changed. Both of us.”
He looked at me curiously, while my cheeks burned with what I could only describe as rage.
I was super frustrated with Becks right now, and I didn’t understand why, and that made me want to punch something.
“Okay, time-out,” Calla said. “Let’s just take it slow, okay? Everybody just chill.”
I looked out the window, because if I looked at Becks’ confused face one more time, I was going to lose my mind.
“Becks is right,” Calla said. “We’ll take it one step at a time. We have the committee already picked out. You guys, me, and Rose. Now we have to pick out a theme. That should be easy, right? We’ll put some themes in a hat and pull one out. Done deal. So, come on. Let’s pull together. For Kat’s sake.”
I sighed. “You’re right. This is all for Kat.”
“My grandfather used to say...” Becks’ voice shook, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “He used to say that anything could be done with a can-do attitude. So, we just have to put in the work, and everything will be fine.”
I could feel his gaze on me, but I ignored it, staring straight out of the window.
I remembered Gramps, Becks’ grandfather. He was a kind man, who always smelled like tobacco and peppermint, and who prided himself on his pressed pants and shiny shoes. I was sad to hear he’d gotten sick. I was even sadder to hear that Becks had abandoned me to go take care of him.
My anger boiled up again, and the second we pulled in front of the school, I jumped out of the car. I didn’t wait for Calla and I didn’t say anything to Becks.
I just walked out and into the open air.
That’s what I needed right now.
Air.
The first meeting of the Carnival Crew, at least that’s what Calla called us, came to order during lunch.
Becks provided his knit cap as the hat, and we all threw our ideas into it.
My idea was a Victorian themed carnival, complete with cutouts of men in top hats and women with hoop skirts and parasols.
Calla shook up the hat dramatically.
Rose smiled at Becks. “I see you’re still not combing your hair,” she said.
He nodded. “You remember that, huh?”
“I remember combing your hair every morning in third grade because it was always a mess.”
“And the second you turned your back, I’d mess it up again.”
“Infuriating. But good times.”
A little ray of happiness shone on his face, cutting through the clouds of sadness that hung there.
“I’m glad you’re back, Becks. We all missed you when you left.”
“I missed you too.” He glanced at me, then quickly looked away. “Both of you.”
Were they serious? I swallowed down my nausea. It figures he’d be buddy-buddy with Rose. Maybe they’d exchange numbers again. Maybe they’d go out this time. Maybe they’d get married.
My gut tightened to painful levels, and I reminded myself not to be insane.
I tried to relax by reminding myself this situation was temporary. Once this carnival was over, Becks and I wouldn’t have to be around each other ever again. And, after we graduated, we would never see each other again.
That made me feel a little bit better.
But only a little.
7
Our suggestions sucked.
At first, Calla picked Mardi Gras, which was Rose’s idea, but Calla thought it was too cliché.
Then, Calla picked Victorian, which was my idea, and everyone shot that down as being boring right off the bat.
So much for my friends understanding me.
Then Calla picked rodeo, her idea. We thought about it for a minute, but decided it was way too massive to work out.
The last idea was Becks’, who wanted to do an art festival.
Art? Really? The Becks
I remembered couldn’t even draw a stick figure.
So, that left us back at square one.
With zero ideas.
“We need to think of something,” I said. “Without a theme, this carnival will be over before it begins.”
“What would Kat want to do?” Becks asked. We all turned to him. “This is for her, right? We should pick something she would’ve liked.”
“What would she have liked?” Rose asked, looking at me.
I winced under the attention.
Sure, I knew some things about Kat. She was on the softball team, she liked superhero movies. She and I talked about The Flash television series every Wednesday morning. She had a dog named Max. I knew because she had a picture of him in the plastic cover of her binder. We talked a lot in gym but, now that I thought of it, what we talked about wasn’t really deep. Fun and gossipy, but not deep.
I worried my lower lip, feeling like a fraud.
Was that all I really knew about Kat? I thought she was my friend, but I didn’t know a whole lot about her. We talked if we were near each other, but rarely went out of our way to call each other. We invited each other to our birthday parties. She knew I liked to read, so she gave me a gift card to the local book store every year, and I got her a gift card to the local sporting goods store.
It was nice, and she was kind, but, looking back, our relationship felt shallow.
“I’m not sure what she would’ve liked the best,” I said.
Becks shrugged, as if my admission didn’t bother him at all. Why didn’t it bother him? It surely bothered me.
“Fine,” he said. “Then we’ll go to the hospital and pay her mom a visit. She’ll know what we should do.”
Calla shivered. “Hospitals? I don’t really do hospitals.”
Calla’s grandfather had a heart attack last year. She’d been with him when he died in his hospital bed. Since then, she’d kept a wide birth from any medical facility.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Rose, Becks, and I can go, and we’ll discuss it tomorrow morning.”
Rose raised her hand. “Sorry. My mornings are a little full.”
“Right,” Becks said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your new ride.”
She shrugged. “What can I say? Kim brings me coffee. Plus, she’s much prettier than you.”
Becks scoffed.
Just then, the lunch bell rang, and relief flooded me. I was ready to get away from Becks and my sister’s new friendly relationship. It was making my shoulders itch.
“Tomorrow at lunch then,” I said, grabbing my tray and power walking to the trash can.
I could only imagine what Rose and Calla thought about me right now. I knew I was being weird, but I couldn’t help it. Something about Becks and Rose acting like everything was okie dokie was making it hard to breathe.
And it wasn’t even close to being over.
I’d roped myself into spending my afternoon with these two.
Great.
When did my simple life get so complicated?
8
We pulled up to St. Mary’s Hospital after school and stood outside of the hospital.
I’d thought it would be a good idea to see Kat, but right now I was nervous.
She’d been in a coma for the last two days. But she’d also been in an accident.
Would she look the same? Was she terribly injured?
The future doctor in me was curious about her condition, but the teenager in me was afraid of what I might see. But I had to put on a brave face. This was my idea, after all. I couldn’t chicken out now.
“How bad did Calla say Kat was injured again?” Rose asked.
It felt good that my sister had the same concerns as me. It made me feel like less of a baby.
“She’d didn’t,” I said.
“You don’t think... like... is it... bad?”
“I don’t know.”
I could see Rose slipping on her brave face too, while, next to me, Becks was staring up at the hospital sign, his face slightly pinched.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.”
It appeared that Calla wasn’t the only one with a fear of hospitals. Turns out, my sister and my ex-best friend were too. Which left me, Ms. Afraid of Everything, to try and keep us together.
I cleared my throat and marched in, while Rose and Becks followed closely behind.
We got the room number from the front desk and went upstairs to room 403B.
I’d been to this hospital before, when I volunteered the summer before last. It looked the same now as it did then. Long white corridors, wooden doors, and packed nursing stations. It smelled the same way too, like lemon cleanser and chemicals. The overhead fluorescent lights were dimmer than the sunshine outside, blurring my vision, but I pressed on.
I knocked on the door and to Kat’s room. A voice came from the other side.
“Come in.”
I glanced at Rose’s and Becks’ pale faces. I wondered if I looked like that too.
I took a deep breath, pushed in the door, and took a quick look around.
Kat’s mom was sitting next to her daughter’s bed. She was a heavy-set woman, with long brown curls, and she wore a nursing uniform beneath a gray, pilled sweater.
Was she on duty? Did the hospital put her daughter on her floor to watch over? If they did, I didn’t know if that was torture or a blessing for her.
“Hi, Mrs. Levy,” I said, but my voice sounded thin and small.
“Lily McAlister,” Mrs. Levy said. She stood up, turning fully to us. “And Rose McAlister. Is that you?”
Rose gave her a little wave. “Hi, Mrs. Levy.”
“And behind you, is that Beckett Hayes?”
“Hi, Mrs. Levy.”
“Welcome back to Bloom, Beckett.”
He cleared his throat, and I could hear him shuffling behind me.
“Thank you.”
I stepped forward, feeling more nervous than I had been when I last saw Mrs. Levy at my aunt’s wedding.
“We came to see how Kat was doing.”
Mrs. Levy’s smile trembled, but it was there, holding on.
“Thank you. I’m sure Kat would like that.” She looked down at her daughter. “None of her classmates have come to visit her since the accident.”
She gestured us over and I pumped a few drops of hand sanitizer into my hand from the station next to the door, before complying.
Kat’s dark, curly hair was contained in two messy braids. There were a few lacerations on her face, and a white bandage was taped to the front of her head. She’d probably hit her head on the steering wheel, or on the windshield. That sort of head trauma must’ve been what put her into this coma in the first place.
She looked banged up, but peaceful. I was glad she wasn’t in any pain, but I also knew this wasn’t the vibrant, funny Kat I’d known. And the worst part was there was nothing I could do to help her right now. It made my heart ache.
I stood next to the bed and put my hand on her arm. I’d read that people in comas could sometimes hear what was going on around them, and that it was best to address them directly so they stayed hopeful.
“Hi, Kat,” I whispered. “It’s me. Lily McAlister. You’re going to be okay. I know it.”
Pity stuck to my soul like glue. Poor Kat was stuck here, in this hospital, when she should’ve been complaining about the heat, laughing with me in gym, and playing softball like she used to. She shouldn’t be here. Not like this.
My mom was right.
Sometimes the universe was so unfair.
“Everyone misses you at school. When I see them tomorrow, I’ll tell them how nice you look,” I said. “As beautiful as always.”
Her mom sniffled and squeezed Kat’s hand. “She was so beautiful.”
“She is so beautiful,” I corrected her. “And we can’t wait to have her back at school where she belongs.”
Mrs. Levy nodded briskly and sn
iffled again.
“Thank you for coming,” she said. “We appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Actually, there’s something we want to talk to you about.” I glanced back at Rose and Becks. Rose was close behind me, her eyes glued to Kat’s body, while Becks stood back in the doorway, looking at anything but the hospital bed. Those two would be no help now.
It was me. On my own.
I gathered my courage and tried to keep my voice strong.
“As you know, the school hosts a fall carnival every year. This year, I’ve asked to run it.”
Mrs. Levy nodded. “That’s very nice, dear.”
“And I want to dedicate it to Kat. We’re hoping to use it as a fundraiser, and to donate the money to you, to help with the hospital bills. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mrs. Levy looked at me in shock.
“What?”
“We think Kat would approve,” I said quickly. “And we wanted to do something to show we haven’t forgotten her.”
Mrs. Levy’s mouth opened and closed, and her eyes darted between Kat and me, as if trying to keep up with some invisible conversation.
“This… this is too much.”
I took her hand in mine. “It’s not enough. Kat was one of us. We want to do all we can to get her home as fast as possible.”
Mrs. Levy shook her head, then she wrapped her arms around me.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’re an angel.”
She sniffed loudly in my ear, and a warm tear rolled down my neck.
I hugged her back as tight as I could because, in that moment, it was what she needed. I think I needed it too.
After a while, Mrs. Levy pulled away and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“We were hoping for some suggestions on a theme,” I continued. “Things Kat would’ve liked.”
“Sports,” Mrs. Levy said quickly. “She loved... loves sports. Especially softball. Softball and her dog were... that was her life.”
She looked at me, and I knew it was all she could give.
It would be enough.
“Thank you,” I said. “Sports it is. We’ll make Kat proud.”
I turned back to Kat’s unmoving body, then placed a hand on her calf. “We’re going to make you proud, Kat,” I said. “We’ll take plenty of pictures to show you when you wake up. Maybe we’ll even make up a hashtag. #CelebrateKat or something. It won’t be lame, I promise.”